


Since When

by NotRoyalty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (but not a wolf), AU, All-Human, Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Everyone's alive, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 23:10:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2326523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotRoyalty/pseuds/NotRoyalty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some kid called Stiles keeps buying weird crap at the grocery store Derek works at. Derek maintains that he is not amused (he really is).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Since When

**Author's Note:**

> I got this promt from one of those AU idea posts on tumblr.  
> Link here: http://andyflynns.tumblr.com/post/93416948697/the-new-handymans-hot-so-im-gonna-keep-breaking

Derek didn't want to be working at a grocery store. He's a college graduate for heavens sake. People with degrees in Architectural Studies aren't on a first-name basis with the lovely old couple who comes through every Wednesday afternoon (Harold and Gracie were like clockwork when it came to grocery shopping). 

"It's just while you're looking for a more permanent job," Cora soothed as Derek scowled his way into the store. "It's not like you're looking to have a career checking people out."

Derek paused mid-frown.

"That came out wrong," Cora said, and he could hear the identical frown on her face. "I'm hanging up now."

"See you later," Derek sighed, pressing end as the familiar hum and cold smell of the produce section surrounded him.

As soon as he got home that night, he would hopefully have an email from at least one of the potential employers he had contacted. Hopefully. At least one. And even if he didn't, there was still an entire season of  _Game of Thrones_ he had left. Part of him was angry at Erica for introducing him to it because it had basically taken over his life since the had started last week, but the other part was thankful that he was no longer spending his evenings wandering around his empty apartment slowly letting his student loans drive him into depression. 

He had to admit, his problems paled somewhat to those of Jon Snow. His heart went out to the poor bastard. 

Derek was still thinking about Jon Snow when he realized he was checking out the fifth box of toothpicks someone had bought. He slowed, looking down the belt to see that there were at least ten more boxes piled there. Just as slowly he turned his head to look at whatever crazy person had decided to get fifteen boxes of toothpicks. 

The guy standing there clearly realized what he was thinking. There was the most infuriating smirk stretching across his face as he rocked back on his heels, hands on his hips. His brown hair was standing up in every direction, and his similarly brown eyes were alight with a dare to ask him why he was buying so many toothpicks. 

Raising his eyebrows, Derek looked down at the pile of toothpicks again.

"I'm pretty sure that it's cheeper to buy fifteen boxes of toothpicks at Costco," Derek grunted. 

"It's twenty boxes," the guy says, still grinning as Derek starts checking them again. "And it takes twenty minutes to get to Costco."

Derek raised his eyebrows again, peering up at the guy from under them. 

"It takes five minutes to get here," he explained, as if that was a good reason for spending ten dollars on toothpicks. 

Just for kicks, Derek gave the kid one more strange look as he dumps an armload of toothpick boxes into a bag. 

"Thanks, man," the kid said, grabbing his bag with a wink.

_A wink?_

People these days were unbelievable. 

* * *

 

Three days later Derek had not forgotten the toothpick guy (as Derek had fondly crowned him). He'd told Cora about him (she had snorted and asked why he was buying so many toothpicks) and Erica (she laughed out loud and then asked why he was buying so many toothpicks).

Every time he saw a lanky guy with brown hair, he found himself thinking it was toothpick guy for a moment before whoever it was turned around to reveal that they had the same preoccupied frown that everyone wore in grocery stores. Erica'd leaned over her register once and asked why Derek was staring at customers, but he hadn't answered her since some hectic-looking kid with a crooked jawline had asked where the mentos were. 

As it happened, Derek had only just let his mind stray from toothpick guy when a voice from down the line forming at his register exclaimed, "Dude! you didn't get any marshmallows!"

Derek paused in the middle of ringing up a cabbage just in time to see the crooked-jawed kid tearing off to get marshmallows. Toothpick guy turned his head back and made eye contact with Derek for a moment before Derek turns back to the cabbage, scowling. 

Toothpick guy was getting steadily more jumpy as Derek methodically worked through the line and his marshmallows had not come with the crooked-jawed guy. 

Just when Derek was about to start checking out the first of the four bottles of coke they were buying, crooked-jawed guy appeared, waving the marshmallow. 

"Stiles!" he yelled, and tossed them to toothpick-guy. "I'm getting another pack of mentos," and he was gone again.

"Stiles?" Derek found himself saying in confusion. 

"And that's just the nickname," Stiles said raising his eyebrows with the same grin as he had with the toothpicks as his eyes traveled up and down Derek. "You should hear my real name."

Derek opened his mouth but closed it as the crooked-jawed guy came sliding up with more mentos.

"This is going to be epic, dude," he said, jumping up and down slightly as he surveyed his purchases.

Derek busied himself with the last pack of mentos. 

"Just so long as you don't put another one through any windows," Stiles laughed ( _what a beautiful sound_ , Derek found himself thinking. _Wait w_ _hat?)_ , putting bottles of coke into bags. "I can still hear Lydia shrieking a little when I close my eyes." He mock shuddered, handing a bag to crooked-jaw.

"Did you text Lydia?" he asked, frowning. "I better do it just to make sure." He stared wandering towards the door while getting out his phone.

"Have a great one," Stiles said, picking up the last of his bags, "Derek," he finished, peeking at his name-tag.

Derek gave him a smile and a nod, which was something he reserved for people like Harold and Gracie. Since when was he doing that for weirdos who bought twenty boxes of toothpicks?

That night Derek made Cora spaghetti and talked about her day while purposefully trying not to think about the way that toothpick guy- Stiles- had grinned at him with those chestnut brown eyes. 

Chestnut brown. Since when was he describing eye colors in so much detail?

"Derek?" Cora asked.

"What?" he asked, draining the spaghetti.

"I just told you I got married in Vegas and I'm expecting my first child."

"WHAT?"

"I was kidding," Cora said, jabbing him with her foot. "Just to check if you were listening, which you weren't."

Derek loosened the death-grip he had on the pan and set it down with a shake of his head.

"What's got you bothered?" Cora asked, stirring the sauce. 

Derek shrugged.

Turning her head like a bird of prey, Cora scrutinized him.

"It's boy trouble, isn't it," she said astutely, glaring.

Derek opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again, realizing that he had a crush. How inconvenient. And stupid. Derek face-palmed, letting out a long sigh. "How is this my life," he said, voice muffled.

"You'll work it out," Cora said, confidently.

"What?" Derek said, sliding down into a chair. "No sage advice?"

"If you want sage advice on matters of the heart," Cora said around a noodle, "Call Laura."

* * *

Derek didn't call Laura. It was a crush. He'd get over it on his own. 

At least, that was what he kept telling himself, and he almost believed it until a week later when he looked up from the register to find himself face to face with Stiles.

"Hey, dude," he said, grinning at Derek like he was the best thing he'd seen all day (which, for Derek, was kind of true).

"You're groceries are normal," Derek blurts, looking at the lettuce in his hand.

"Contrary to popular belief," Stiles said, leaning in. "I do have to eat vegetables now and then. But keep it quiet," he said, leaning back and looking around. "I have a reputation to maintain."

A little laugh exploded out of Derek almost against his will. 

"So you do have some happiness locked inside there," Stiles grinned, poking Derek's shoulder. 

Derek shook his head, looking down at the bags to hide the smile. 

"Later," Stiles smiled, lifting his hand as he left. 

Derek sighed, leaning on the counter and watching him leave. The afternoon sun looked so good in his hair. 

Since when had Derek started paying attention to how peoples' hair looked in the afternoon sun?

 _This entire thing is stupid,_  Derek told himself sternly. 

He told it to the ice-cream too, when he was sitting on his couch eating it out of the carton. 

* * *

 

Derek didn't see Stiles for almost a week until a box of tissues, tea bags, and instant soup came rolling into his register. 

Stiles was standing there, scarf wrapped around his neck, eyes bleary, and nose red. 

"Cold?" Derek asked, ringing up the tea.

"More like, death by germ infestation," Stiles groaned. 

"I heard it's going around," Derek said because he's never been that good at sympathy.

Stiles moaned, letting his head thunk down on the card register. "Kill me please," he muttered, sniffing. "Death must be better than this."

"Don't say that," Derek said, feeling uncomfortable as Erica sniggered at him from her register. "Colds only last like a few days," Derek said, and, for some reason yet unknown, reached out and patted the back of his head gingerly.

"You have warm hands," Stiles hummed, rolling his head sideways. 

"Ok," Derek said, withdrawing his hands. "You need to get back home and drink at least four mugs of tea." (To be entirely honest, he was just repeating what Laura told him every time he got sick, but hey, it had always worked for him.)

Stiles moaned again, but raised his head and half-heartedly dragged his bag off the counter and trudged towards the door. " 'danks," he called over his shoulder, and Derek just stared after him like a star-struck loser. 

* * *

 

Derek would be lying if he wasn't worried about Stiles, but he came down with the same cold just a few days later and wasn't at work to see if Stiles had survived until the next week. 

And when he did get back, his manager vengefully sent him to stock shelves as if it was Derek's own fault that he got sick (which it sort of was, but Derek still managed to scowl a hole through the back of his head after he turned around). By the time Derek was putting baking soda on the shelves, he was certain that he was not going to see Stiles for the foreseeable future. 

"I cannot, for the life of me," came a voice from behind him, "find the sugar."

Derek turned around, scowl still implanted on his face to see Stiles's grinning face. 

"Stiles," he said, the scowl dissipating involuntarily. (Since when did seeing someone make him stop scowling.)

Stiles waggled his eyebrows. 

Derek could have sent him to find the sugar with a couple words of instructions, but it wasn't as if he was having a great deal of fun re-stocking baking soda. 

"This way," Derek said, leading him to the next isle over to where the rest of the baking supplies were. 

"Ah yes," Stiles said, taking a bag. "How  _sweet_ of you," he said, nudging his arm, and then laughing at the expression of utter un-amusement on Derek's face. "Come on," he said, "you love my puns."

"Ok," Derek said, crossing his arms. "So it wasn't the worst one I've ever heard."

Stiles snorted. 

"So I see you're healthy again," Derek said, re-stacking sugar as if he was supposed to be there talking to Stiles. 

"I came close," Stiles said defensively. 

"Oh please," Derek snorted. "I know for a fact that it wasn't that bad."

"You didn't see me languishing in bed, barely able to breath," Stiles said.

"But did experience it first hand, so don't pretend," Derek said, crossing his arms.

Stiles's mouth fell open in dismay. "I gave it to you?"

Derek shrugged, turning back to the shelves. 

"Now I feel terrible," Stiles sighed. 

"I probably would have gotten it anyways," Derek said quickly, shaking his head.

"I should be arrested. I nearly killed the grumpiest grocery store employee," Stiles said dramatically. 

"I am not the grumpiest," Derek protested. "Stan from produce is-"

"Stan from produce laughed when I made a pun about the lemons," Stiles contradicted, "so he has one on you."

Derek would be lying if he wasn't thankful that Stan was in his fifties and married. Actually, Derek didn't actually know if Stiles was gay, but it didn't matter because  _Derek Hale was not the kind of person to date his customers._

"So the next time I tell you a pun," Stiles was saying, "I expect you to laugh, if you want to vacate your position as grumpiest grocery store employee."

"Fine," Derek said proudly, reaching down to straighten the sugar again to hide how pleased he was that there would be a next time (since when was he this pathetic).

* * *

 

"This won't work," Derek said, staring at his screen with a frown. 

"You just got a job, doofus," Cora said, peering over his shoulder. "Last time I checked, you've been driving yourself into insanity trying to get one."

Derek stared at the email which requested him to start next Monday. 

"Why not?" Cora asked suspiciously. 

Silence.

"It's that boy isn't it?" Cora hissed, sitting down across from him. "He goes to the store, and you don't want to up and disappear without giving him a long and detailed explanation where you went along with directions how to get there."

Derek slammed his head down on the table. 

Cora leaned back and slurped on her Starbucks judgmentally. 

"This is stupid," Derek said, jerking upright and turning to his computer. "I am not risking my career for some crush."

And he vengefully replied that he would start then. 

Since when did he miss the grocery store?

* * *

 

The thing about being well-employed is that you can afford to do things like take your siblings out for movies. Laura and Cora were buzzing around him like excited birds while he walked into the movie theater.

"You've been working there for what, three weeks?" Laura asked as they neared the theater. "I'm so glad that you can actually go out now!"

"It got pretty boring only going with Laura everywhere," Cora said shamelessly, taking off her sunglasses. 

They started arguing as Derek went up to buy tickets. 

"Three for that Avengers one," he said, pulling out his wallet. 

"Well," crackled a voice from the speakers. "If it isn't the grocery store's grumpiest (and most absent) employee."

Derek's head snapped up to find himself face to face with Stiles.

"Stiles," he said, blinking as warmth swept from his head down to his toes. 

"It's called  _Age of Ultron_ , by the way," Stiles said with a little more venom, eyeing Derek.

"I got a job," Derek blurted. 

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "You had a job."

"No," Derek said, looking down at his wallet. "I got a job as an architect, so I can finally use my degree."

"Oh," Stiles said, sounding sad. "So you won't be there to judge my purchases anymore."

"You bought twenty boxes of toothpicks," Derek deadpanned, handing over his credit card. 

"Well,  _Derek Hale_ ," Stiles said, reading his card. "That was Scott's idea. My friend Lydia said she wanted a miniature version of her house, and he owes her so..."

"Is he the one who was buying all the coke and mentos with you?" Derek asked, leaning against the counter as if that would somehow make the thick pane of glass between them disappear.

"That was him," Stiles laughed, swiping Derek's card. "Poor dude was trying to think of a novel way of asking Allison out."

"Did it work?" Derek asked, not because he particularly wanted to know, but because he wanted Stiles to keep talking. 

"Setting off a bunch of coke and mentos outside her house as a wanna-be fireworks display?" Stiles asked, raising his eyebrows. "What do you think."

Derek, stood, shaking his head. "I'm no expert."

"Don't tell me guys and girls aren't falling over you," Stiles said, picking up the movie tickets.

"I've never had the best of luck with guys," Derek mumbled, snapping his wallet deliberately. 

"That is just sad," Stiles said, sliding the tickets through the hole. "And I don't believe it for a minute," he finished, looking Derek straight in the eye with a mischievous expression.

"I just can't seem to ask anyone out," Derek said in despair (since when did he tell people had a crush on about his difficulties asking people out), leaning on the counter.

"It's not that hard," Stiles said, leaning on the counter. "Just try it."

Derek opened his mouth but nothing came out. 

"Ok," Stiles admitted, pushing off the counter. "That won't work most of the time."

"That's what I-"

"But I'm easy, so I'll go out with you anyways," Stiles shrugged. 

Derek wasn't really sure how he made it into the movie theater, but he was pretty sure that Laura had tried to check his temperature because he was grinning from ear to ear. 

* * *

 

Epilogue 

 

Derek didn't want to wake up fully. He was so warm and so comfortable with the warm morning sun just starting to crawl down the opposite wall. For some reason his sleepy brain had not deciphered yet, he was incredibly, beautifully happy. 

And then the bed bounced up and down as someone landed on it, and Derek opened his eyes to see chestnut-brown eyes and brown hair glowing in the morning sun. 

"Morning," Stiles said, pressing a slow, warm kiss onto Derek's lips.

"Morning," Derek muttered, dragging Stiles down on top of him. "Why are you awake?"

"I made you breakfast," Stiles said, leaning away from him and returning a moment later with a tray that had eggs, bacon, and... they were all stuck with toothpicks.

Derek raised his eyebrows, taking the tray from Stiles.

"You know what day it is?" Stiles asked, leaning on the pillows.

"What day is it?" Derek asked suspiciously.

"It's one year to the day that some ridiculously grumpy looking grocery store employee started judging some idiot for buying twenty boxes of toothpicks," Stiles said, inspecting his nails. 

And Derek laughed. Not some little snort, but outright, throwing his head back laughter. 

"Since when is filling someone's breakfast with toothpicks a way to remind them that you've known each other for a year," Derek asked, still laughing as he picked up a piece of bacon by the toothpick stuck in it.

"Since that idiot bought twenty toothpicks from a grocery store because it was fifteen minutes closer than Costco," Stiles said, kissing Derek again.

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles bought the toothpicks to make a miniature version of Lydia's house, the coke and mentos for Scott to ask Allison out, and the marshmallows were just for snacking on while they did it.


End file.
